


Change

by AkaShika



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aural Kink, Aural sex, Barflies, Chino Moreno's voice is sex, Clothed Sex, Deftones Music, Inspired by Music, M/M, Music, White Pony, fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 15:24:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18574240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkaShika/pseuds/AkaShika
Summary: Neville never thought music would be something he had in common with Draco Malfoy





	Change

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a PWP that turned into music porn... sorry, not sorry.

Draco Malfoy stood in a crowd of people so covered in sweat that his thin white t-shirt was sticking to his skin.

At least, Neville thought it was Draco.

It had been years and Malfoy had all but abandoned the Wizarding world. No one knew where he went or why he left, but they could guess.

Now, watching him as he writhed along with the beat of the music blasting through the large speakers in the Camden Barfly, Neville thinks he understands. The band was brilliant, but Neville only had eyes for the blonde in the centre of the room.

He didn't mean to approach Draco, he didn't even intend to speak to him if he could help it, but the sight of a man in his skintight clothing approaching him had pushed Neville forward.

The music changes as Neville closes the space between them but when he's finally stood close enough to speak to him, Neville falters.

It's not unusual; some people would have said it was common, before the war at least. Sometimes he can't quite push past his horrible teenage years when he was chubby and the least popular boy in his dorm. Although, when his dorm contained Harry Potter, Neville was bound to be pushed to the side.

Draco meets his eye through the smoke machine the muggles use too much, and the laser lights flash, highlighting Draco's hair in all the colours of the rainbow.

He's beautiful.

They don't speak. Not until the bands finish and last orders are called.

Unlike while he was dancing, Draco looks more uncomfortable now. Neville can see the tenseness in the line of his shoulders beneath his shirt and he keeps flicking his eyes across to the door.

It's a slow kiss that ends the night, with a few small words interspersed. Neville walks away from the Barfly slightly confused, but hopeful.

Months pass in a haze of live music, grey eyes and blond hair winding through Neville's fingers and as he works in a greenhouse at Hogwarts, he wonders how this relationship will bloom or if it'll wither like the Ostentatious Orchids Madam Sprout tried to grow in Greenhouse Seven.

It's the weekend before Neville's Seventh years are due to take their N.E.W.T.s when Neville first sees Draco in a wizarding area.

He's stood in front of the Three Broomsticks on one of Neville's nights off, scowling at anyone who looks at him for too long and Neville can barely smother his smile.

"You're here?"

Draco rolls his eyes and tuts at Neville in a way that he's slowly coming to adore.

"I said I'd be here didn't I?" Draco says, his tone betraying his casual stance.

Neville smiles, then catches sight of Draco's cheeks flushing. He smiles more.

"Come on, I don't want to see a live show tonight."

He leads Draco to the small cottage that borders a wild field and shows him through to a wide open sitting room. The gramophone in the corner shows signs of tinkering if the pile of CDs and records in the corner are any indication.

Neville puts on a record, the cover a stark grey with the outline of a horse in one corner. The music is nothing like the live music they listen too and Neville has to remind himself that he doesn't really know Draco. They just dance together and share kisses at the end of the night.

Draco moves like water to the music.

"Gods," he says slowly, as if he's intoxicated and needs to think about his words. "That voice..."

He spins around the room with his hands in the air.

"It's like sex for your ears," he says with a laugh. "Fuck!"

"Are you saying it's aural sex?" Neville asks with a grin.

Draco nods and his eyes glitter in the warmth of the room. "His voice is aural sex. I like it."

When Neville skips a few tracks, Draco sits beside him on the sofa, his head resting against the back as he throws his legs across Neville's thighs.

The music playing now doesn't sound like anything Draco can remember hearing. It echoes and reverberates around his mind before the guitar kicks in and the singer, the same one as before, lets his voice lick across Draco's ears from the speakers and it feels like his entire body will be turned into a single nerve for anyone to play.

He feels on edge and expectant at the same time.

He can feel his breath rate increase and he didn't realise when he'd said it earlier, but listening to this song is probably as close as he could get to sex without moving.

He can feel his mind spiralling towards something he doesn't recognise and then...

The song winds down, with one final clash of drums and guitars, it fades, leaving him falling down a hole made of god knows what.

He reaches out and grasps Neville's arm before throwing himself over Neville's lap, straddling it in one swift, smooth mood.

"You did that on purpose," Draco says as Neville lets his hands roam beneath Draco's shirt.

His skin feels sensitive, more so than usual, and Draco shivers and flinches closer to Neville, only to be met by his lips against his throat.

Long fingers curl in soft hair and it doesn't matter who is who because they both feel the same, an incredible amalgamation of desire, lust and oversensitivity to the other. It shouldn't want to make them want touch more but it does, anyway.

Draco is gasping, Neville's name falls from his lips like it was destined to and they climb, together, higher up the peak the music was leading them towards.

Every sound that doesn't come from them is ignored, they move like they're dancing and their climaxes are the encore.

Finally, sticky and sweaty, they descend from their high.

"Fucking hell, Longbottom," Draco finally manages to say. "I wasn't expecting that."

"No one ever does," Neville says. "We're all too stuck on what we were all like at fifteen to wonder how much people change."


End file.
